


rush through my veins

by euphoricland



Series: you're all i've done, all my life [2]
Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Closet Sex, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Hyung Kink, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Shyness, Youngjo wants to do a lot of things with Keonhee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricland/pseuds/euphoricland
Summary: Keonhee must not be aware of just how many buttons he has undone.  Usually the one to shyly reach out and try to cover up any flash of skin.Youngjo doesn’t say anything, enjoys the bit of leeway Keonhee’s playing around has granted him.Seoho’s loud singing drifts from another corner of the room, the door opens and a staff member ducks in, just enough to let them know there’s a delay.Youngjo shakes his leg, restless, shoving his phone into his jacket’s pocket.  There’s always way too much time in between these things.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Keonhee
Series: you're all i've done, all my life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791052
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	rush through my veins

His eyes trail behind the other boy. The buttons of his silken shirt haphazardly undone, the tantalizing silver of creamy skin tempts him.

Keonhee’s eyes _finally_ meet his, through the mirror as he stops his booming laughter. It’s abrupt and his eyes widen, shifting nervously, unsure, like he tends to do when he’s caught off guard.

It’s _adorable_ , and it makes his lips spread into a fond smile. No one is paying attention to him, he’s in the corner, almost hidden behind the pile of clothes and bags. Keonhee looks away, eyes dropping to his shoes before Hwanwoong captures his attention again.

Youngjo’s eyes don’t look away, he must be obvious about it, by the way Keonhee’s cheeks begin to dust with pink. He pretends to look at his phone, thumb swiping idly as his eyes keep Keonhee in his gaze.

Keonhee must not be aware of just how many buttons he has undone. Usually the one to shyly reach out and try to cover up any flash of skin.

Youngjo doesn’t say anything, enjoys the bit of leeway Keonhee’s playing around has granted him.

Seoho’s loud singing drifts from another corner of the room, the door opens and a staff member ducks in, just enough to let them know there’s a delay.

Youngjo shakes his leg, restless, shoving his phone into his jacket’s pocket. There’s always way too much time in between these things. He shifts in his corner, eyes raising again when he hears Keonhee complain, pretty mouth setting into a pout.

He’s _bored_ , he’s _hungry_ , he’s _nervous_.

“Keonhee-ah,” Youngjo calls softly, just enough to catch his attention, Hwanwoon’s interest peaked as well.

“Keonhee-ah,” he sticks out his fist, smiling, “if you beat me I’ll buy you anything from the vending machine.”

Keonhee’s eyes set on a look, questioning, faltering. He’s searching for an ulterior motive, Youngjo keeps his gaze steady.

“Ok,” he says, sticking his own hand out.

Hwanwoong laughs, already amused, Keonhee’s rock paper scissors record not so great.

But the little giggle stops when Keonhee sticks out paper and Youngjo presents them with rock. Hwanwoong throws a little cheering sound, urging Keonhee to get the new honey snacks they had seen stocked in the machine when they had first arrived.

Youngjo gets up, shrugs on his hoodie, keeping it from slipping from his shoulders, zips it up. He worries for a while that Hwanwoong is going to follow them but Geonhak offers an unexpected but welcomed distraction, asking Hwanwoong to go monitor their rehearsal with him.

Hwanwoong, always the professional, hops on over to where the other is sitting by the make up station.

Youngjo smiles at Keonhee, feels reckless enough to grab his hand and pull towards the hallway. Keonhee’s hand is limp in his and he stumbles a bit with Youngjo’s movements, picking up his pace to stop himself from falling over.

The hallway is mostly empty, other artists and performers in their waiting rooms, waiting out the delay.

Youngjo pulls him away from the room, they pass the vending machines, down the hallway.

“Youngjo-hyung,” Keonhee starts, voice dipping in question, “the vending machine…”

Youngjo turns just enough to smile at him, voice dropping in a semblance of privacy, “there’s another prize for you to collect.”

It’s teasing and playful and it has Keonhee blushing, spreading high on his cheeks. 

“Hyung...I,” Keonhee is definitely pouting, Youngjo doesn’t have to turn back to know. They go down the stairs, at the back of the hallway, hidden away, their footsteps echo as they go down. Keonhee wonders briefly where Youngjo is taking him, walking with a purpose. 

Eventually Youngjo pulls him out of the staircase, into an equally empty hallway. He watches as Youngjo tries to open the first door they encounter. The doorknob clicks, door opening, Youngjo walks in, taking Keonhee with him. 

The room is a small closet, smelling like cleaning products. Keonhee wrinkles his nose, eyes scanning the shelves full of bottles and boxes.

“How is this a gift?” Keonhee asks, blinking, surprised, when Youngjo’s hand pushes against his chest, pressing him against the door.

He goes quiet as soon as Youngjo crowds over him, palm sliding to cup his cheek, mouth pressing a kiss to the other.

“Keonhee-ah,” he says, voice low, his hand drops away, fingers grabbing at the material of Keonhee’s shirt, playing with the buttons, “do you need help buttoning your shirt?”

Keonhee looks at him, eyes widening in realization as his own hands come up from his sides, knocking Youngjo’s hands away, trying to do his shirt up.

Youngjo laughs, stops Keonhee’s hands, his fingers find themselves under the shirt, the silk of it grazing his knuckles, his fingertips touching the softness of Keonhee’s skin.

He can feel the skin prickling, goosebumps as he idly traces patterns, absentmindedly writes his initials against the tanning skin.

“I can kiss you, right?” Youngjo asks, unsure.

They’ve done so much _more_ , a couple of days ago. Something he still thinks about when he walks into their tiny living room and sees their shared couch. 

Although they’ve pretty much confessed to each other, it’s been hard to find time to do anything. Youngjo has spent probably every night entertaining thoughts of Keonhee. From that late afternoon together, from imaginary scenarios his mind is more than happy to supply. Now that he’s had something, that he’s been able to _feel_ the younger man under him, he constantly feels an itch, under his palm, to _touch_.

Youngjo, in his own way, feels shy, unsure, feels like he has to ask.

Keonhee’s eyes look at him, the room is quiet and Youngjo takes the moment to look at them. They are pretty, deer-like, Keonhee could pass of as a prince.

“Have we not kissed before?” Keonhee asks, blinking, his hands, folded into him, unwinding to tentatively settle on Youngjo’s shoulders.

“Yes,” Youngjo answers, eyes flickering to Keonhee’s plush bottom lip.

“Do you like me?” Keonhee asks, and it probably comes out a little more _raw_ , more open than Keonhee intended. 

But Youngjo does, he likes Keonhee very _very_ much. So he nods, then says, “yes.”

It feels way too intimate for them, in a cleaning closet, cramped together.

“Then you can kiss me,” Keonhee smiles at him, a small, slow unfurl, the corners of his lips hitching up lopsided.

Youngjo’s hand lays flat over Keonhee’s bared chest, against the hard plane of his sternum, as he leans forward, eyes flickering only for a second, just enough to catch Keonhee’s eyes fluttering shut.

It’s a sweet kiss. Youngjo takes the lead, Keonhee’s hands on him gripping the back of his sweater, he tilts his head and it makes the slide of their lips easier. It’s warm and it makes Youngjo’s body feel effervescent, like the cold fizzy cola he likes to drink on hot summer days.

He’s shocked out of his thoughts when he feels Keonhee’s hot tongue lick into his mouth, tentative, flickering, before retreating quickly. Keonhee’s body keeps warming up and Youngjo has to pull away, overheating.

“S-sorry,” Keonhee pants, clearly misunderstanding, “I got excited...I guess I _really_ liked my prize.”

His cheeks are peachy pink, softly fading into his skin, lips glistening with their kiss, bruised into a darker pink.

Youngjo takes a moment to catch his breath, reconstruct his thoughts, remind himself what the goal is.

“Don’t be sorry,” he finally says, taking his hands away from Keonhee’s bare chest, hands gripping at the other’s waist, pulling him closer to his body, “I like it.”

Keonhee’s blush reaches the tips of his ears and Youngjo takes it as the hint to finally do what he’s been almost obsessively thinking, _dreaming_ , about.

His hands drop, fingers landing on the button of Keonhee’s dress pants, and he has to remind himself to keep his hands from shaking, no matter how excited he is.

“But the kiss wasn’t your prize Keonhee-ah,” he says, looking up at the other, delighting in the way Keonhee’s eyes have widened, how his ears are now a deep red.

“Hyung,” Keonhee starts but all his thoughts die when Youngjo’s hand reaches for his zipper, eager, fingers undoing the button next, pulling the waistband of Keonhee’s pants down, then his underwear.

His dick is out, Youngjo’s lips too close. He catches Keonhee off guard, coaxing out a surprised whine when he mouths at his jaw, trailing to an open mouthed kiss. Hot and slick with an insistent tongue, tasting, claiming. Keonhee’s breath stutters, cheeks now painted with splotches of red, he’s already half hard, his face is hot, a flush licking its way up his neck. 

“ _Oh_ ,” he breathes out, turns away to take in a heaving breath, a sound caught in his throat when Youngjo’s hands circle around him. It’s a ghost of a touch, barely touching him, but the promise of it, the softness of Youngjo’s palm riding up the line of his cock has Keonhee’s hips twitching. 

“Cute,” Youngjo murmurs and Keonhee’s eyes flicker down, meet Youngjo’s deep gaze, then the way his hand holds him, fingers around him, chokes when Youngjo’s hand finally grips him properly, a slow glide from the root of his dick to the head, thumb rubbing lazily against the slit of it. His gaze flickers back, overwhelmed.

They don’t break eye contact, Keonhee caught in a daze, cheeks stark red, mouth dropped, trying to keep breathing.

“Hyung,” he says, uselessly, a fraying thought. He has a lot he wants to say, so many words he can’t even begin to put together. 

It’s not anything much more different than he has done to himself, at night when he thinks everyone is sleeping. Rough strokes, eyes screwed shut as he tries to come quickly, quietly. Keonhee’s hands are softer, less careful in their touches. Youngjo’s hands are bigger, heavier, but they touch him like Keonhee’s something precious. Like Youngjo has gone through an entire odyssey just to touch him, unbelieving, _reverent_. 

And it feels _different_ , so much more different than when Keonhee touches himself. It’s gentle and every tug sends a shiver up his spine, an itchy, prickling feeling under the skin of his palms. His fingers curl into fists, digging into the skin under his thumb.

Youngjo’s fingers circle around him just a bit tighter, fist picking up speed as Keonhee grows harder, flushed pink, beads of precome starting to gather. He blushes, a heat wave of embarrassment when Youngjo’s gentle hands gather his wetness, slicks his dick up with it, from top to bottom, to the tip again.

“ _Pretty_ ,” Youngjo says, lips pressing the words to Keonhee’s jaw, sliding until they rest of the crook of Keonhee’s neck, at the flaring line from his neck to his shoulder.

Youngjo presses his lips to the skin there, Keonhee shudders at the warmth of them, the quick wetness of Youngjo’s tongue licking over where he’s raised goosebumps.

“I want to make you feel good,” he murmurs and Keonhee feels the way his knees try to give out. His hand goes to grip tightly at Youngjo’s shoulder, the other pinching painfully at Youngjo’s side.

His eyes shut close when he feels the way more precome dribbles from the slit, the velvet glide of Youngjo’s fist as he spreads it around his cock.

It goes on like this for a couple of seconds, Youngjo’s hand pumping up and down, slow, teasing, until Keonhee’s hips start to jerk up, minute movements asking for more, daring Youngjo to get closer, go faster, let him come.

He’s not really sure how much time passes, it can’t be more than a minute of the torturous glide of Youngjo’s palm on his dick.

There’s a press against his bottom lip. Keonhee’s so caught up in the feeling, he opens his mouth easily, eyes fluttering open when Youngjo’s thumb presses down on his tongue and he can taste himself. Youngjo presses against the roof of his mouth, a slow slide, and then down to press against the inside of his cheek. Keonhee watches Youngjo’s face with wide eyes, the half lidded stare as Youngjo’s eyes flicker from the curve of his thumb against his cheek to Keonhee’s own gaze.

Keonhee runs his tongue over the digit, he sees the way Youngjo’s chest hitches with his breath, cheeks tainting pink. Keonhee feels like his blood is boiling, Youngjo’s stare set on him, setting him on fire. 

Youngjo doesn’t say anything, eyes shiny, pupils blown wide. He takes back his thumb, running briefly against the metal of Keonhee’s braces, then rubbing at the lines of Keonhee’s lips, spreading around his saliva, making a mess.

Youngjo dips forward, and Keonhee gasps, Youngjo’s hot tongue licks against his lips, thrusting inside his mouth, hand again moving along his dick, strokes hard and fast, on edge.

Keonhee gasps, a little choked off sound, body trying to curl into itself, his hands twist in the material of Youngjo’s sweater, knuckles white as he holds of tight.

“Good?” Youngjo asks, words wet, mouth still pressed against his own.

Keonhee takes a moment to answer, thighs tightening as Youngjo’s pace doesn’t let off, the sounds of his breathing, heavy, the slick, wet noises of Youngjo hand on him, they ring loudly in his ear, his brain overheating with them.

“Y-yes,” he stutters, voice thin, small, “ _h-hyung_ ,” he tacks on. 

He feels the way Youngjo grins at that, hand stopping for a second before it strokes him again, slow, measured, teasing, gripping tight at the base.

“You really are a good boy,” he says, mouth pressing again to his jaw, “definitely deserving of his prize.”

He starts moving his hand again, slow but with purpose, eyes greedy, set on Keonhee’s pink cheeks, swollen, glistening mouth, fluttering eyelashes.

The sounds, the whimpers, choked off sounds, are driving him insane, making him grow impatient, wanting to hear more. 

He picks up his speed again, quick, brutal. Keonhee’s body shakes with the feeling, hips starting to cant forwards again, mouth dropping into breathless moans. 

Youngjo feels the way Keonhee’s cock twitches with the attention and he can’t stop himself from looking down, watching the way his fingers wrap around the other, the way his hand glides so easily over the smooth skin of Keonhee’s dick, milking out beads of pearly white precome, spreading it down the curved rigid line. He bites his lip, transfixed. The sounds, the image of it all, Keonhee holding on tight to him. It goes straight to his own cock. He blinks away, keeps going.

“Youngjo-hyung,” Keonhee whines, looks at him. 

He doesn’t say anything else and Youngjo has to look at him, a pleasant feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach when he catches the beading of tears clinging to Keonhee’s eyelashes.

“Youngjo-hyung, _p-please_ ,” Keonhee whines, he’s pouting, petulant.

“You want to come?” Youngjo asks, hand still stroking him, mindlessly.

“Rehearsal,” Keonhee gasps, eyes begging, “I - ”

He stops, Youngjo’s hand pumping him quick, an unforgiving pace. 

“You’re so pretty,” Youngjo sighs, he twists his wrist and Keonhee cries, out, sharp, stuttering. He increases his speed and Keonhee’s entire body goes taut with it, he feels like anything will break him at this moment.

“Please, come, Keonhee-ah,” Youngjo whispers, hand getting tired, “show hyung how good he makes you feel.”

He presses his thumb against the head of Keonhee’s cock, hand still stroking him. Keonhee’s body goes still, Youngjo feels the way Keonhee spills all over his hand, it makes his hand glide easier, wet and warm.

Keonhee’s face drops to Youngjo’s shoulder, mouthing little, overwhelmed sounds, whimpers, choked off sobs.

He goes quiet, Youngjo making sure to get every last drop of Keonhee’s come, enjoying the wet sounds coming from his movements, the hotness of Keonhee’s mouth pressed open on his neck.

Keonhee’s body has gone limp, heavy and warm, leaning on him, feels like every inch of him is sticking to Youngjo

“Hyung,” he hiccups, Youngjo’s hand still working over his cock, “ _hyung_ , it hurts.”

He gives one last lazy pump, smiling when Keonhee twitches at the feeling.

“You came a lot,” Youngjo comments, looking at his hand, covered in streaks of Keonhee’s come.

Keonhee scrambles to unstick himself from him, cheeks blazing, mouth set into disbelief, embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he says, chided, “I didn’t think about how gross it would be, I should have told you...so you, you wouldn’t have gotten dirty.”

Youngjo doesn’t say anything, instead brings his hand to his mouth, licks a stripe away from his palm, licks his lips when some of it lands on his mouth.

“Don’t be sorry,” Youngjo says, yet again, doing this, with Keonhee, “I like that you came so much...it means hyung made you feel real good, right?”

Keonhee seems to be at a loss for words, he stares at Youngjo, wide eyed, then looks away, shy.

“Yes,” he mumbles, voice soft, “I really liked my prize.”

Youngjo goes quiet, eyes dreamy, “was this, was this a first, too?”

Keonhee nods right away, ears pinking up.

It causes a strange feeling inside Youngjo, a roaring, possessive, wanting, flood of emotions. 

“Have you done anything else? With a boy? With anyone?” Youngjo has to ask, needs to make sure.

Keonhee shakes his head, eyes finally looking at him again, “just-just what I said before. Just kissing. No boys.”

“I’m sorry,” Youngjo apologizes, Keonhee’s eyes uncertain, “I’ve been selfish...doing things I want to do.”

“I liked it,” Keonhee reassures him, “you felt it right?” His eyes go to Youngjo's hand.

Younjo grins at him, reaches for a roll of paper towels on a shelf, “next time, we’ll do something you want to do.”

“Ok, ok hyung,” Keonhe agrees, timidly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Youngjo laughs, “your dick is still out.”

-

The vending machine is now a lot less full, slots empty from other people buying snacks between rehearsals and preparations.

“Keonhee-ah,” Youngjo turns to look at the other boy, dropping his hand as he pulls out his wallet, “what would you like?”

  
Keonhee’s large eyes scan the machine, turning to look at him with puppy dog eyes, as if Youngjo is going to ever say no to him, “those,” he says points at a puffed snack, bag shades of red and oranges.

“Ok,” Youngjo chuckles, going towards the buttons, squinting at the numbers under the snack.

Keonhee cheers quietly when the bag ends up in his hands, ripping it open impatiently, stuffing his mouth ungracefully.

 _Cute_ , Youngjo thinks, eyes catching at the way Keonhee’s buttons are still not done up.

“Here,” he says gently, fingers reaching up to do them up, one at time, “you’ll catch a cold,” he teases, just loud enough for only Keonhee to hear.

Keonhee stops chewing, looks at him, surprised.

Youngjo smiles, looks around before placing a quick kiss to Keonhee’s cheek, hand dropping right back to interlock with Keonhee’s, and pulls him back into their waiting room.

**Author's Note:**

> for ravhee nation, whoever that may be


End file.
